


New Sheriff in Town

by orphan_account



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Cowboys, Crack, Multi, run while you can, scary crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All was quiet on the western front. No critters dared stir, and tumbleweeds drifted by like lone souls searching for hot beans and shelter for the night... the outskirts of Shikoku were a sea of danger and dust, these days. Times have changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... I was challenged to write a crackfic featuring Sengoku Basara characters in a cowboys AU. It was written late, late at night... well, I'll let you see for yourself. I'm sorry.

All was quiet on the western front. No critters dared stir, and tumbleweeds drifted by like lone souls searching for hot beans and shelter for the night. They all get lost and eaten by outlaws and dingoes, anyway… the outskirts of Shikoku were a sea of danger and dust, these days. Times have changed.

“Motonayri, sir.”

“… who dun let you in, boy?” Motonari narrowed his eyes, his boots clicking their shiny heels on the floor as he stood up. He nodded at the messenger. “I didn’t call fer no water boy, if that’s what y’got for me.”

“No siree, sir…” the younger man was a-quakin’ in his boots. “I’m here t’pass on a lil message fer ya… y’see, that varmint bandit’s back in town, Motonayri sir… jus’ thought you might wanna know.”

“… you thought right, boy.” Motonari turned away from him, looking out the window and into the rising sunlight. “I reckon the wretch’ll be out here soon… that is, if he can haul his cheatin’, no-good bandit ass out here at dawn fer a gentlemen’s duel.” 

“Y-Yes siree, sir… fer sure…”

“One thing, boy,” Motonari turned back to face him, “you thought wrong about one thing.”

“Sir…?”

“Nobody ‘sirees’ me.” 

——-

“What in tarnation happened out there Sawskay?!” A young man stopped his horse on the outskirts of Shikoku, the hooves trampling over a tumbleweed. This here kid wasn’t about to get eaten by no dingoes. 

“Dunno partner,” his friend rode close in a black horse, halting beside him. “I heard a gunshot out in that there window… I reckon there’s one man or more dead, with that screamin’ I heard after th’ruckus… but don’t let it spook you, Yukimoora.” Sasuke pat him on the shoulder. “We’re gonna show them bandits there ain’t nobody who messes with us westerners an’ gets away with it.”

“Yer right, Sawskay… we gotta git in there n’ fight ‘longside our comrades! Ain’t no bandits winnin’, no how!”

——-

“Awright, all you yeller-bellied cowards!” 

The whole town was standing still. Not even the yellerest of them all dared stir, as big-bad-bandit Motochika “Choker” Chosokabe rode into town with his gang. 

“This here land’s mine now… and all o’ you lil’ pansies are gonna tell me where yer coward sheriff’s hidin out.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Me n’ that man have a lil duel to get started… and if he don’t show,” Motochika laughed, “I’m gonna go git him myself and put a hole in his head before he can crawl out of his yeller sheets to see the light o’ day!”

“You wouldn’t know a darned thing about th’light o’ day, you cheatin’ lizard.”

A bullet ripped through the air, dust shooting off of one of the bandit’s ten gallon hats. 

“Sir!” The man yelped, “he dun made my hat  _nine_  gallons ‘stead o’ ten!!”

Motochika glared at Motonari, who stood up straight in front of him, pistol drawn. “Well well well, lookee here… Mr. Sunny-side-up decided to show.” The gang laughed, and Motochika’s grin got bigger, filling up the space needed in that now nine-gallon hat. “Yer gonna regret that shot, sheriff. I’m gonna fill that tenth gallon up with yer blood, if you don’t fight fair fer once.” 

“Fair? You wouldn’t know a thing ‘bout that, neither.” Motonari scowled, “you’re the cheatinest of em all.”

“Oh, look at you now!” Motochika laughed, “Yer talkin mighty big fer somebody without a horse… and fer somebody who tried to pit me ‘gainst my own best friend with yer sick,  _sunny_   _schemin_ ’.”

“If there’s anythin’ I won’t stand for,” Motonari leered, “it’s people makin’ fun o’ my wife.”

“Yer wife? Yer still crazy, you mean!” The whole gang laughed with Motochika. “You better git up a better fight than that, Motonayri Mori.” he drew his pistol. “Or I got news fer you— yer gonna get pumped full o’ lead real fast, an’ nobody’ll ever know yer name— they’ll ride up and jus’ see a dusty ol’ skull on a plank!”

“You lilly-livered bastard!” Motonari shot his pistol, and Motochika’s horse bucked and neighed. He jumped down off of it, and shot twice in Motonari’s direction, cracks that sent the townfolk running for their lives and their barrels of whiskey. “Ain’t  _nobody_  gonna forgit my legacy!”

“Jus’ you watch, coward! Come on, fight me like a greasy man, like all us slick, sweaty, hard-workin’ bandits an’ cowboys!”

——-


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the epic saga of cowboys, crack, and (now featuring) sausage.

“Another round o’ sausages here, please!”

A little chubby boy called Hideaki walked on into a diner in Shikoku, the diner known for the best sausages in all the West. Little Hideaki sure loved his sausages, and he’d do anything to get a good plate fixed up for him anywhere, anyhow.

“Here you are, Hideaki…” tall, white and creepy— just how Hideaki liked his men, and just like the man handing him his sausage. His accent was outlandish… Hideaki just couldn’t place where it was from. He was his waiter, anyhow; asking would work, too.

“Oh… thanks.” Hideaki smiled. “Say partner, where you from? You don’t sound like a native in these here parts… I mean, not to offend, o’ course…”

“Not at all.” he smiled, glad that Hideaki didn’t mention how he knew his name already. “My name is Tenkai… I come from the far-off regions of the North, but I do enjoy the livelihood of the West… we should talk about it  _in length_  later~.”

Hideaki nodded fast. “S-Sure thing…” 

“Hold it just a darned minute!!”

The doors burst open, and a bloody ketchup massacre spilled through the room. Mamas holding onto their babies, men and boys and girls racing around, shouting “it’s a hold up, A HOLD UP!!”, until finally a voice yelled out louder—

“HOLD IT!!” 

— and everybody shut up good.

“This ain’t no hold-up…” Sasuke sighed, waving a hand, “we’re just here fer some good ol’ fashioned sausage like th’rest o’ you folks… now siddown and eat, darn it.” 

“Yeah, like Sawskay said!” Yukimura added, making everybody jump a little in their seats. “We just came in here fer th’fixin’s, not t’hurt nobody.” He smiled broad and long as the sausage on a quaking old man’s plate next to him. They took their seats up at the wiener bar, and a girl came over to take their order. 

“So what can I do fer you two fine gentlemen today?” The lady had long blonde hair. “But before you start, jus’ gonna let you all know that I might be takin’ yer orders, but I don’t want  _anythin_ ’ to do with  _your_  wieners. You got that, pretty boy?”

“I-I wouldn’t dream of it, m’am!!” Yukimura’s face turned redder than a bottle of ketchup melting on the sidewalk on a hundred-degree day. “I’m sorry you reckoned I would!!”

“Don’t be, Yukimoora…” Sasuke sighed, patting him on the shoulder. “You ain’t got nothin’ to prove to this here sassy lady.” He studied the girl. “What’s yer name, missy?”

“Kasuga.” she spat, “and nobody calls me  _missy_  ‘round these parts.” 

“… Right,” Sasuke nodded, “me n’ my partner here are gonna get the Wiener Special.” 

“Comin’ right up,  _mister_.” she sassed, walking back to the kitchen.

“… I’m a lil’ scared.” Yukimura shifted on his stool. “Sounds like she means trouble.”

“Not yet, I don’t think…” Sasuke nodded slowly. “I git a feelin’ I should keep an eye out fer Miss Kasuga aginn, though… she looks mighty familiar.”

“If y’say so, Sawskay…” Yukimura nodded, picking up a bottle of ketchup and twirling it in his hand. “There’s some mighty strange folk in these parts…”

“Yeah… I’ll say…” Sasuke nodded, but then his eyes widened. “Look out!” 

He grabbed Yukimura, yanking him off of his stool just before a gunshot smashed the ketchup bottle in his hand midair. Kasuga walked right back out, shrieking at the top of her lungs. “HE DUN GOT KETCHUP IN MY HAIR!!”

“Sorry m’am,” the man standing in the doorway sheathed his pistol at his side. “My mistake… but it wasn’t you I was shootin’. Yer lucky, fer that… I don’t miss.”

“Look out!” A hand shot out from the man’s right, and grabbed a flying wiener as it torpedoed towards his face. “Try bein’ a lil more cautious, Mawsamoonay… yer gonna get hit by things worse than wieners, if y’don’t pay attention!”

“I know,  _I git it_ , Kowj’ro.” Masamune sighed. “But I ain’t gonna be showed up by no… here, gimme that.” he took the wiener from Kojuro’s hand. “… Thanks.” He smirked, looking around the diner. “… You there!”

Yukimura looked up. “…?!”

“You got some nerve…” Masamune pointed the scornful sausage at him, “comin onto my turf an’ makin’ a scene! I ain’t gonna let nobody show me up, no way, no how!”

“We ain’t lookin’ fer a fight, loudmouth…” Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “An’ we don’t wanna be part o’ yer freak show circus, paradin’ in here.”

“I’d choose my words carefully,  _sir_ …” Kojuro narrowed his eyes, “I wouldn’t be so quick to pick fights with the man who draws faster and’s holdin the wiener  _you_  tried to throw at him.”

“Bet he can’t hold a wiener so good any other day.”

_“Y_ _ou wouldn’t know a thing ‘bout…”_

Silence fell upon the wiener bar.

“… you’d do better t’not insult th’man who’s gonna conquer this here territory,” Kojuro continued, “or yer gonna be one o’ the long-lost legends in his next conquest.”

“Well said, Kowj’ro,” Masamune grinned, “I’m gonna show these kids jus’ who the sheriff is in this here town!” He tossed the sausage into the air, drawing his pistol and shooting the weeping wiener midair. It helplessly foresaw its death.

Yukimura stood up, hand on his belt, prepared to draw his pistol. “That there wiener didn’t deserve yer bullet.” 

“Ha! How good!” Masamune laughed, “you ready to PUT YER GUNS ON, kid?!” 

The four readied their weapons for a brawl, and pistols fired as the sausages flew.


End file.
